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The wind chilled Demo’s neck and bit at his hands as he surveyed the area in front of him. He moved across the battlefield quickly, cold New Mexico night air clinging to his skin and clothes. That was the funny thing about the desert; blistering hot during the day and chilling cold during the night. The moon peered at him with interest through windows in the battlements, nearly full with just a tiny sliver missing. It was strange, being out here in the middle of the night, the usual sounds of gunfire and shouting replaced by eerie silence. Strange, but not unfamiliar. He passed a run-down storage shed near the edge of the battlefield and recalled a night spent sharing drinks and stories, laughter echoing across the near-empty desert. Demo pushed the memory away and kept moving. Only a bit further now.
How long had it been since the start of the War? A month? Two? A year? It felt like eternity. An eternity of betrayal, shouted angry words, hateful glares and fierce battles that probably should’ve broken the Respawn. An eternity since trust, heart to heart conversations, glances that said more than words, a firm arm around his shoulder, soft kisses and shared body heat in the thin walls of the desert battlements. An eternity since Jane and Tavish, an eternity of Soldier versus Demo.
Finally, Demo stopped walking on a rickety wooden bridge just halfway between the RED and BLU bases. His heart hammered in his chest, and he scratched at the back of his neck nervously. He’d left his grenade launcher back at the base. Silently, he moved to lean against the creaky, rotting railing, waiting for Soldier.
A ceasefire. Demo had hardly believed it when he found the tiny scrap of paper, tucked into a small crack in the brick wall of one of the battlements, the spot he and Soldier had always used to plan their secret late night meetings. Demo had checked it out of habit, like he did every day, his body gravitating towards the spot in the heat of the fight. Calloused fingers prodded at the gaps in the wall, his heart nearly stopping when he felt the small slip of paper. He pulled it out and slipped it into one of his pockets without looking and threw himself into the battle.
Later, and only when the day had winded down and Demo was alone in his room did he dare to take out the note again. It might not be anything, he reminded himself. It could be nothing. Or it could be more angry words, just a reassurance of their mutual hatred. Or, some hopeful, stupid part of him whispered, it could be something else.
His hands were shaking as he slowly unfolded the tiny scrap of paper, he immediately recognized the rigid, disciplined handwriting as Soldier’s. The letters were shaky, almost, as if he’d written it in a hurry, or with otherwise unsteady hands.
“Meet me on the bridge at midnight in three days. Unarmed” was all the note said. “Unarmed” was underlined twice, which made Demo understandably suspicious, but it wasn’t like Soldier could really do anything to him within respawn range. The worst that could happen would be getting killed and waking up in the respawn room in his own base, which would probably hurt in a couple ways, but he would be fine in the long run. He really had nothing to lose by showing up (he had everything to lose, he had any chance at friendship and love and any sort of hope to lose).
Demo didn’t sleep well at all for the next three days. He stared up at the ceiling, gripping the thin blankets (courtesy of Reliable Excavation and Demolition) that did nothing to keep out the cold, thinking over what he would say, how it might go, and what might happen. His performance in battle suffered because of it; he found himself in the Respawn room far more often than usual.
And now, here he was.
Coming back to himself, he noticed footsteps in the distance. Heavy boots hitting the ground, drawing nearer and nearer. The Gunboats, Soldier’s bribe for betraying his best friend. Demo held his breath, waiting for him to come into view. The sound of boots on gravel became boots on wood, and Soldier was standing in front of him.
The silence that followed seemed to stretch on for a decade, and then, in a matter of seconds, it was over.
“You got the note,” Soldier’s gruff voice was familiar as ever, and for once it wasn’t raised and hurling insults Demo’s way.
“Aye,” Demo said, nodding. “I did,”
“And you came,” He sounded almost… unconvinced? Disbelieving? Like he hadn’t expected Demo to show up.
“Aye,” Demo said again. “I did.”
There was more that Soldier wanted to say, Demo could tell. The silence was back, broken only by howling wind. Awful, sticky silence that clung to both of them as they stood, staring at each other. Demo almost broke it when Soldier’s voice came again.
“...Why?” The question sounded genuine, which surprised Demo. He paused. It was a fair question, honestly. Why did he bother showing up, if he expected an ambush?
“...I wanted to see you,” Demo admitted, to himself and to Soldier. “I thought maybe…” What had he thought? What did he hope would come of tonight? “Well, I hoped. Hoped maybe this was worth it,” Hoped we could fix things. Hoped maybe you missed me, and wanted to see me, too.
Soldier nodded, as if taking in and accepting Demo’s answer. This conversation seemed to be nothing but silence with gaps of speech.
“Why did you say those… things?” Soldier suddenly blurted. Demo furrowed his brow.
“What?”
“Those… things. That I was a bad friend. A…” Soldier hesitated, and Demo gave him a look as if to encourage him to continue. “civilian,” His voice was bitter, dropped to a whisper as he spat the word out. Demo watched as Soldier pulled his helmet further over his face.
“What? Laddie, I never…” Demo searched for the words, completely caught off guard by Soldier’s question. “I never said anything like that, trust me,” His words were genuine. Pleading. Trust me. “I would nae ever say it, either. Even if ye hate me,”
Soldier took a step back. Turning, he looked out at the battlefield, processing. “You mean you never made a recording where you agreed to kill me? And said you didn’t like me?” and it hurt that it sounded like Soldier was genuinely struggling to believe that.
“Nae, o’course not!” Demo said, stepping towards him. “I only really agreed because- well, because that Pauling lass told me you’d already agreed. And you seemed pretty dead-set on killing me the next day,”
Soldier looked up at Demo. “I only agreed because they showed me that stupid tape. Tricked me into thinking you hated me, that you had betrayed me… I thought the voice sounded off,” he admitted. Demo couldn’t help but chuckle softly at how stupid the whole situation really was.
“What’s so funny about that, maggot? I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you!” Soldier barked. “We are making up and you are laughing! This is important!” His voice was a mix of anger, confusion, and something else Demo couldn’t quite place.
“Nothing, I just…” Demo sighed, but he was smiling. “If we’d just… trusted each other a bit more, this never would’ve happened. We were set up, lad,”
Soldier hesitated, then nodded slowly. “I suppose you are correct. This War was neither of our faults, in a way,”
“That’s a good way to think about it,” Demo agreed. “I guess we need to work on our weakness to bribes, eh?” He tried to joke.
Soldier chuckled, nodding slowly before looking up at Demo and slowly, very deliberately taking off his helmet. Those blue eyes that haunted Demo’s dreams and paraded through his nightmares were barely visible in the low light. Soldier’s face was rough and unwelcoming, but Demo knew better. His hair was still as short as ever, buzzed clean. The haircut of a true patriot.
“Tavish, what are we? After this?” He asked, stepping forward. Demo hesitated. Soldier- Jane had called him Tavish. He’d used his name.
The answer came almost immediately. “Whatever you want us to be, laddie,” he said, putting a hand on Jane’s shoulder.
“I miss you,” Jane’s warm hand came to hold the arm on his shoulder. “I miss us ,” he added, Tavish couldn’t help but slide his hand up Jane’s neck, leaving it to rest on his cheek, holding gently, thumb softly stroking. His expression was one of adoration.
“Aye,” Tavish sighed. “I did too.”
When their lips met, there were no sparks, no fireworks or shocks of electricity. It was soft, a kiss between lovers finally reunited. Feeling and relearning until they finally pulled away, cheeks flushed and panting, suddenly having all the warmth in the world in the middle of the New Mexico desert.
That night, Tavish slept better than he had any night in his life. He was alone, but in a way, he wasn’t, really. He’d squeezed Jane’s hand before they’d parted ways, a promise for a future and for love. He held his pillow as he slept, knowing that when he saw Soldier tomorrow, they could sneak away for a moment or two in the sewers. He could see his friend, his lover, again. Tomorrow.
The War ended, not with a bang, but with soft touches, a kiss, and a promise. One day, when it was all over, and they could all go home, Soldier and Demo would stay, but Jane and Tavish would leave together.